


A house is not a home

by dirtyprettythings



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3887458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyprettythings/pseuds/dirtyprettythings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, I hope someday I find a person who looks at me like Steve does when he talks about you.” Sam whispered while walking out the door. “I think you're ready, don't you?”.<br/>He walked out the door, leaving it open, Bucky standing in the doorway, not sure whether to stay or follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A house is not a home

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble I wrote for my friend very late one night. I just wanted Bucky to finally come back, but not the Bucky that went to war. Since, in my mind, Winter is there, taken a place inside Bucky's mind for good. 
> 
> Also, never written a fic before, so just, ugh, forgive me.

Sam did find Winter.

But Bucky was gone for a long time after Winter was found. It took Sam months to find him, following the trail, going over the reports he now had at his disposal since he joined the Avengers. Steve, as busy as he was with new additions to the team, always had one eye on Sam, wherever he was. The nights were the worst for Steve; staring at the reports of sightings, trying to find the truth from lies – Winter was good at covering his tracks. Most times they came too late, some of the time they read the situation wrong – Winter didn't want to be found.

Steve didn't really sleep, the new responsibilities taking second place while his worry grew. But Sam held him up, picked up the slack, made sure the man whose eyes kept getting darker didn't lose all hope. So maybe they didn't actually find him, but at least Bucky was alive.

And, in a ridiculously underwhelming turn of events, Sam called Steve in the middle of one night. Telling Steve he found Bucky. Just like that. Following a seemingly insignificant lead in Prague, Sam found him sitting in a cafe, in broad daylight, leisurely sipping a beer. While Steve had made it perfectly clear not to approach Bucky, Sam had calmly sat down opposite the man. Winter had known Sam would come, it was him after all who tipped them, waiting for the man who seemed so ease with himself to find him.

“He needs you to come home”, Sam simply stated.

And that was it. It wasn't Bucky, but Winter, who followed Sam silently, only slightly trembling and fists tightening while boarding Stark's private plane.

“Are you going to hurt him? Because, I swear to you, if you lift one finger against him..”  
Sam tried to keep the tone non-threatening but serious. Winter had only looked at him, straight in the eyes for the first time since they'd met and said very softly  
“ I would never hurt him knowingly. Now, that I know him. Again”.  
And that was all Winter would say, to Sam or to anyone.

Tony Stark was an asshole, but he was an efficient asshole. Before anyone could make any decisions, Bucky had been hauled to the tower, given a room with a private bathroom, a physical and left to his own devices – with orders to give a word to Jarvis 2.0 when he was ready to see Steve.  
Not that Steve was actually having any of this. He was in Tony's face constantly, screaming threats, trying to bribe him, intimidate and appeal to Tony's nature. It didn't make any difference. You can't influence a man who already has everything and nothing to lose.

The man in the locked room, shivering on the bed after an hour long shower under the scorching hot water, was making the decisions now. And he couldn't face Steve. The blond man was the reason Winter came back, but he couldn't meet him. Not like this, mind a jumbled mess of memories, the back of his mind screaming orders to finish the mission even now. Winter was in his backbone, muscles taut and ready to take over at a moments notice. He didn't trust himself. Fuck, he didn't even know who he was. Why did he even come here?

Was it fair? To talk to Sam every day but to not meet Steve? In Winter's mind Captain America was still dangerous, he couldn't quite make the difference between Steve and the superhero. He remembered Captain America, the man who followed him to war – the one who looked taller than he remembered. But for some reason Winter wanted to remember Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. He didn't really understand why, but he knew it was important.

So he stayed away from mostly everyone. Tony built him a new, lighter arm the minute he stepped out of his room for the first time. Sam sparred with him, talked with him almost every day and Jarvis 2.0 showed him movies and documentaries of the last 70 years. He found out he was addicted to microwave popcorn and reality shows about cooking.

*****

Steve was losing his mind. Bucky was here but not with him. And he was certain that he would be the key in bringing Bucky back. But Winter didn't want him. Steve was a patient man, but even saints have their breaking point.

It'd been two months, without a word from Bucky himself, when Steve finally realised that he really needed a home. He was a mess, lost to sleepless nights, doing his job, worrying about Bucky. There's no way of giving any support to his friend if Steve was a shadow of the man he used to be. He needed to put himself back together, find a place he could be himself, where he could take Bucky – if he ever came back. He'd never thought owning a home was important; those kinds of things tend to feel insignificant when you're frozen for decades and have no family left. He lived in a rental in a nice neighbourhood, but it wasn't a home. The idea of Bucky coming back to that was too depressing.

So Steve bought an apartment. A loft they call it nowadays, a spacious room with brick walls and open kitchen, stairs leading to a bedroom upstairs. He liked it, going furniture shopping with Nat and Sam, buying vinyls, books, actual plates. After decades he was still the man who was waiting. He sat in the dark, watching the lights over Brooklyn, thinking he would never be happy without Bucky. He made this home for the man, since he had never dreamed of a home before. Those ideas were things he wasn't allowed to have, or to hope. Not when he was young, before the war, because back then it would never have been accepted. And after, being pulled from the ice, he'd never even thought of it. Even the nightmare caused by Wanda didn't really shake him. It wasn't a nightmare. His life was a series of events about loss. He was used to it, beaten down by it, until he accepted it. And then he got Bucky back. 

Not that he actually did. When had he ever thought Bucky even wanted him, or liked him in any other way than a friend?

Steve felt like an idiot. He had been so focused on finding Bucky he never thought for a second Bucky might not feel the same way. And Winter was strong. Winter wasn't a mindless machine, Sam had told him that much. Winter had a dry sense of humour, a stare that froze even Tony Stark to his place, and a fragile heart that Winter stood guard of, burying Bucky somewhere very deep. But he remembered. Winter was just afraid of letting Bucky out. Because Winter remembered that Bucky loved that golden haired man very much. And with that realisation became fear.

*****

Where Winter was a man of mission and destruction, Bucky was always a man of love and loyalty. Realising love makes him stronger, Winter allowed Bucky to have a place inside him. A narrow place, to be quite honest, but a podium to stand on. A voice that started coming out in his conversations with Sam. Bucky had never backed out of a challenge, never gave up, never left a man behind. So he told Sam about his fears, how he wanted to meet Steve, be his friend, to get to know him again – but that he was worried about the love he felt for the man. Like that would push Steve away. Sam promised not to say anything to Steve, it was Bucky's decision to make their friendship whatever he felt was comfortable, since Bucky seemed determined to keep the hopefully newly found friendship for what it used to be.

“You know, I hope someday I find a person who looks at me like Steve does when he talks about you.” Sam whispered while walking out the door. “I think you're ready, don't you?”.  
He walked out the door, leaving it open, Bucky standing in the doorway, not sure whether to stay or follow.

*****

Steve took a beer from the fridge, going through the records he'd bought that afternoon from the flea-market, when he heard a knock on the door. Sam sometimes popped by this time on Friday nights, getting back from the VA where he still did some volunteer work for the night groups.

Steve Rogers had been shot dozens of times, been thrown off buildings, ran over by cars, hurled through the air. They felt like insect bites compared to the feeling of seeing Bucky standing in the corridor, chin down, nervously biting his lip. Bucky's hair was in a messy bun, his faded jeans and tight black t-shirt making him look like he never was anything but a 30-year-old man in Brooklyn, like he belonged there. The black leather jacket covered up his metal arm, but Steve knew it was there.

A gorgeous 30-year-old-man, Steve realised, while he was staring at those grey eyes that kept glancing at Steve - doubt, hope and fear flickering simultaneously making them sparkle. Steve realised he'd been staring, without saying a word. He remembered Bucky being smooth, never lost for words, but he guessed this wasn't the same Bucky, not really. He would take any kind of Bucky he would get, if he was allowed.

Steve took a step back, while Bucky still hesitated, finally lifting his chin and looking Steve straight in the eyes.  
“I never asked you”, Bucky started, making Steve stand still and waiting patiently.

“When you followed me to the war, I never had the time to ask, before, well, everything” Bucky licked his lips nervously, gesturing at the air around them.

“What did you want to ask me?”  
Steve whispered softly, trying not to make Bucky run, to back out, to take back any words he might have left unsaid before.

“After the war, if we would have survived. What would have you done after that? Did you ever think about it? Would you have left Brooklyn?”,  
Bucky's voice didn't waver but there was an anxious edge to it. Steve didn't think he would never see Bucky so scared, hesitating, just by talking to him. If Bucky was a man who never backed down, Steve Rogers was a man who always spoke the truth. And the truth was very simple, even though it could finish Steve for good. Because he hadn't really had any dreams, or hope, since he woke up. To risk everything by simply stating the truth, it was a reckless move. Was there any other kind for him?

“If we had survived, all I ever really wanted was to be with you. Like a friend, like we used to be before”, Steve started, taking a step towards Bucky who kept looking at him with a look that Steve honestly couldn't read. Maybe that's Winter's face, Steve thought quickly, making a mental note to learn every single look this new Bucky had, if he was ever given the chance.  
“But, if given a choice”, Steve continued, placing a gentle hand carefully on Bucky's shoulder as if to keep him there whatever the reaction might be  
“I'd rather live with you, love you, anyway you allow me to. If that's as friends I'll gladly take it. If it's something more...”, Steve's voice broke, his heart pounding when he felt Bucky's shoulders tense under his arm.  
“As lovers?” Bucky's voice was barely loud enough for Steve to hear over the hammering of his heart. After years in the battlefield, Steve Rogers had never been so scared in his life. If Bucky ran, if he wanted nothing to do with Steve anymore, that would be his end. But the look on Bucky's face was one he recognised. From when they were younger; the way Bucky used to look at him sometimes – open, happy, trusting. But it didn’t last, the look was gone when Bucky seemed to make his mind about something, the posture changing with catlike gracefulness.

“That's what you mean, don't you?” Bucky's voice came closer, without Steve even realising it. Bucky was standing so close, inches away, his breath ghosting on Steve's cheek. He could feel the heat that Bucky was radiating, the subtle tension of the pose, making Steve unsure of everything. “You want me? In your bed?”, the voice was now smoother, lower, seductive. A tone Steve had never heard. He felt Bucky grip his neck with his right hand, squeezing gently, while Bucky's lips swept gently the corner of his mouth.  
“Did you always want me? Or is this part of the new you?” The voice was velvety smooth now, sliding down Steve's body like liquid silk. This wasn't Bucky, he realised, this was Winter. This was Winter testing him, trying to find a hole, trying to find the lie.

Taking a careful step back, still staying in the deliciously tempting grip that had Steve hoping for things that seemed very far away now, he decided to give Bucky the chance to rip his heart out, if it came to that.

“ I always wanted you Bucky. Always. I want you anyway I can get you. As long as you stay in my life. If you want a wife and kids, I'll be there to be your best man. If you want to join the Avengers, use Winter as a survival mechanism, I'll help you. If you want to move to a deserted island, alone, I'll call you as often as you allow me. Just don't disappear again. Not after everything.”  
Steve took a shaky breath, feeling the grip loosening. The loss of heat was almost disappointing.  
“But if I'm being honest, to myself, and to you, I want you for myself. Selfishly, all to myself. I want to wake up with you every morning, I want to take long showers with you, watch you read, take you to holidays, go to a bar with friends as long as I know you're coming home with me. I want to marry you, grow old with you, get so annoyed by you that I can't breathe. I want you to make me crazy, frustrated and happy. That's what I want. What I've always wanted. I just never got the chance to say it. And then it was too late. And now you're here, and you're really not. But I don't care, since I love you, and I'm so afraid of losing you that I didn't realise I lost you already. To Winter. But I can love him too. If you let me. Steve never really came back from the war either.”  
Steve couldn't breathe anymore, he was pushing the words out as fast as he could, afraid he would stop if he gave himself the chance.

Bucky's eyes were filled with tears, lips slightly open, arms now hanging by his side, drained of power. When did they change sides? When had Bucky become the man with no words, and Steve the one saying too much?  
“Bucky, just say something, anything, just please don't walk away, okay?” Steve started backing up again, giving Bucky the room to make his decision. “What do you want, do you even know?”

“You”, Bucky whispered quietly, but to Steve it was the loudest sound in the world. “I want you, like I always have. And you're a fucking idiot for not saying anything, all this time, being a superhero and all. Like you couldn't find the time or having the courage to tell me this, back then. Because you were the bravest person I've ever known. So now I realise I'm in love with an idiot, and I'm not sure if I'm okay with that”, Bucky stumbled through the words while closing in on Steve, grabbing the man's shirt with both hands. “And I'm not all here, not really, Winter is a part of me now. And I can't let him go – he's different, powerful, relentless, but I need him. But I need you too.”

There was never a question what Steve Rogers would do if given the chance to have Bucky. And now, standing in his doorway, gripping Steve's shirt with a hungry look in his eyes, saying that Winter wasn't really gone, what could Steve really do? Did he ever have a choice?


End file.
